


Beyond the Glaring Streetlights

by bakedgoldfish



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s02e22 Two Cathedrals, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-27
Updated: 2003-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakedgoldfish/pseuds/bakedgoldfish
Summary: When all we wanted was the dream to have and to hold.





	Beyond the Glaring Streetlights

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Beyond the Glaring Streetlights**

**by:** Baked Goldfish

**Character(s):** Leo, Jenny (y'all remember her, right?)  
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Disclaimer:** Someone else owns The West Wing. Sarah McLachlan owns "Wait," which is where the title and summary come from. I am neither Sarah McLachlan nor someone else. Please don't sue me.  
**Summary:** When all we wanted was the dream to have and to hold.  
**Spoiler:** Two Cathedrals  
**Author's Note:**

He drove in the pounding rain, the water slamming like bullets against his BMW. Even in his dazed state, inebriated from the sudden turn of events, even in that state, and even in the hazy dark of night, he knew his route well. The traffic lights looked vaseline-blurred through the wet, melting windshield, but he was confident in his ability to steer a straight course. 

In a little over twenty minutes, through the out-of-season tropical storm, his car found its wait to the big, looming, familiar house in Fairfax. Almost automatically, he stepped out of the car, as if he were home. As his shoe hit a puddle, dirty, cold water soaked the cuff of his hand-tailored trousers. He paid it no mind, as the rest of his suit was getting soaked as well. 

The rain pelted against him as he stood in the driveway, and he stared up at the house as if he were just realizing where he had driven. There were two other cars in the driveway, and only one was Jenny's; he tried to recall if she had bought another one recently. 

The rain continued to pelt him as he debated whether to go to his old doorstep. A light came on in the mudroom, and pierced through the window curtains, hazy in the rainy night. He walked up to the door, water splashing down around and under him with every step. 

He knocked on the door, the sound almost camouflaged by the howl of the wind and the tattoo of the raindrops. As his sodden clothes started to clam up his skin, he considered knocking again, for fear that she had not heard him the first time. 

She opened the door a half a second before he had the chance to knock a second time. She stood there, stunned, and beside her stood a man. He was taller than Leo by about eight inches, with salt-and-pepper hair, an oblong face, and eyes so blue they were almost frighteningly silver. He, too, was a bit stunned, standing with his overcoat on and ready to leave. 

"I'll see you, Scott," she said finally, breaking the silence. Leo turned away slightly as Jenny gave Scott a quick kiss, and nodded an awkward greeting as he left. 

"You're soaked," Jenny stated, still looking at him with a bit of bewilderment. 

"Can I talk to-" He stopped abruptly and glanced back to where the cars had been parked. "I didn't interrupt-" 

"No," she assured softly. "He was just leaving." 

He caught himself in her eyes for a moment, falling deep into them. Blinking, he cleared his mind and kept himself from falling even deeper. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" 

"What about?" The question was not defensive, or cautious. 

"Did you see the broadcast?" 

She nodded, and he tried not to notice the subtle way her shoulders pulled in as she crossed her arms over her chest against the damp chill. "Come in," she said, stepping aside. "I think I've got something upstairs you could change into, if you want... " 

Shrugging out of his overcoat, he glanced down at his half-sodden suit. "Mine?" 

"Scott's," she answered, taking his coat and putting it carefully on the coat tree. 

"I'll only be a minute," he said, failing to keep his eyes away from the line of her back as he followed into the kitchen. "You said you saw it?" 

"Yeah." She put some water in the kettle and set it to boil. "How long have you known?" 

"About the..." 

"Yeah." 

He sagged into a chair at the kitchen table. "I don't want to tell you that." 

She turned from the counter, a little bit of fire lighting her eyes. "Why not?" 

"Because you're gonna get subpoenaed, and I want to give you as much deniability as humanly possible," he told her, rubbing his eyes wearily. 

The fire abated, and she set a couple of tea bags in the cups. "You told Mallory, though, right?" she asked, her tone unaccusing. 

He nodded as she sat down across from him, and he fought down the urge to stare as her fingers absently brushed a lock of auburn hair away from her forehead. "Please don't be angry at him," he pleaded, leaning towards her with his hands one on top of the other on the table. "He didn't even tell the staff-" He cut himself off, to keep her from knowing too much. "I didn't even tell Mallory until yesterday." 

"I'm not angry at him, Leo," she said with sad eyes. "Not for this." The kettle whistled, and she got up to pour the steaming water into the waiting cups. 

He accepted his mug with a mumbled thanks and took a sip; it was hot and only slightly sweetened with just a bit of sugar. "You sure you're not angry?" 

"I'm more worried than angry," she answered, wrapping her fingers around her own hot cup, watching idly as wisps of steam rose to the air. "I mean, the timing of it all. Delores just-" 

"I know," he said. "I'm waiting for the third thing," he added with an empty laugh. 

"Pardon?" 

"The third thing. As in, it always happens in threes," he elaborated, his eyes drinking in the smooth skin of her neck as quickly as possible before returning to rest at some point just above her eyes. "We should have told you earlier. You shouldn't have had to find out from television." 

"Leo, you work in the White House, you've got more important things to do than worry about me, now." She unwrapped one hand from her tea and reached across the table. Her hand on his, she added, "You don't have to keep me in the loop, Leo. I'm not your wife." She kept her face steady as she watched his shoulders sag a little, as she watched a tiny light in his eyes go out. 

"Yeah," he said finally, looking down into the black surface of his tea. He blinked out the vapors as they wafted into his face. Swallowing, he continued, his voice artificially light, "You should look into getting a really good lawyer. I don't know when it's gonna start yet, but... " 

She withdrew her hand, glad that he had quickly changed the subject. "Are they really going to subpoena me?" she asked, a little incredulous. 

"They're gonna subpoena his granddaughter," he answered, kicking into lawyer mode. "They'd subpoena his third-grade teacher if they could. I'm sorry." 

She nodded and sipped her tea absently. "They're going for blood, huh?" 

Nodding, he leaned back in his chair. "Anyone who's even remotely connected to him, they're gonna wanna question." He fingered the cup idly and stared blankly at the wood surface of the table. "Anyone who's even remotely connected," he repeated, mulling over his words. 

She picked up on his train of thought almost immediately. "You think they'll want to question Scott?" 

He shrugged and did not meet her eyes, for which she was grateful. "Depends on how long you've been seeing him. If it was after the divorce was finalized, he should be okay." 

She hesitated somewhat before asking, "But if it were before, they might want to bring him in front of the jury?" 

He still did not raise his eyes to meet hers, but his fingers stopped moving against the cup. "Then I, uh. I suggest he get a lawyer." He cleared his throat and glanced at his watch, not really looking at the time. "I should go." 

"Leo-" 

"I've taken too much of your time," he said apologetically, walking to the mudroom. "And we're gonna be busy tomorrow." 

She got up to follow, the tea slowly growing cold on the table. "At least change into some drier clothes." 

He thought of Scott's clothes, and how they were probably hanging in the closet where *his* clothes used to hang. He thought of how they had probably been hanging there for the better part of the past year. "I'm okay, Jenny," he assured her as he pulled on his coat. "I'll be, uh, I'll be at my place soon, anyway." 

"I didn't cheat on you," she blurted out suddenly. 

He stopped his motions, and his head snapped up, his eyes locked on hers. "I didn't think you had," he replied quietly, his hazel eyes open and truthful. "You never called, that night," he observed, his hands dropping to his sides. 

One of her hands went to her waist, and the other motioned vaguely in the air; he paid more attention to the way her fine brows pulled together in a frown. "I got, I dunno. Sidetracked, I guess. I'm sorry." 

For a moment, it looked as if he wanted to say something. Then, he pulled his coat closer around him and clasped the belt about his waist. "I gotta go." 

"Drive carefully," she said automatically. 

He halfway leaned in towards her, as if to kiss her. Awkwardly, he stopped himself midway and stepped out into the torrential downpour. 

Jenny closed the door behind him and watched through the window as he drove off. Eventually, the rain and the darkness obscured him from view, and she turned to throw away the tea and empty the kettle. 

Outside, the rain continued to pound the grass and pavement, living in some world far beyond the glaring streetlights. 

-end- 


End file.
